


Republic City Rogues

by Knightfalling_for_you



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Avatar: Legend of Korra, DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Avatar & Benders Setting, Assorted Arrowverse characters, Drabbles, F/M, Republic City
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-05-31 21:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6488380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knightfalling_for_you/pseuds/Knightfalling_for_you
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: Snart, Mick, and Sara are a pro-bending team in Republic City. Mostly just one-shots or short scenes, related, but not an exact progression. These are more short stories than chapters of one long narrative.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Making friends and influencing people

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Len loves his sister. He really does—like, more than life. If he had to choose between his bending and his sister, he’d give up his bending in a heartbeat. It’s a simple decision.

But as much as Len cares about Lisa, sometimes she can be a pain in the neck.

Like today, for instance. She had to choose today, of all days, to pull a robbery downtown in triad territory. Luckily, she’s not in jail (his sister’s too clever to get herself arrested), but the triad wasn’t too happy with her stepping on their turf. They weren’t stupid enough to hurt Lisa—anyone in Republic City’s underground can tell you that’s a good way to piss of Leonard Snart—but they sent her away with a warning from a hired chi-blocker. She won’t be bending today, not for another few hours, at least.

Not in time for their pro-bending match against the Central City Speedsters, which would be a big enough deal given that those goody two-shoes are their biggest rivals. But here’s what makes it even worse: winner of this match advances to the pro-bending championship quarterfinals.

The Republic City Rogues have always been a solid team, even if Mick has a habit of “forgetting” about illegal headshots, but they’ve never been in the championship tourney before. They’ve never had enough cash for the championship pot before. Len, Lisa, and Mick have always had enough from “jobs” here and there to pay the bills for their ratty apartment and the fee to use the training gym, but never the thirty thousand yuans for the pot.

Until now, that is. Len had been planning the perfect heist for months. He’d calculated everything, from the combined worth everything they’d lifted to the response time of Chief Beifong’s metal-bending forces. And it had all gone down without a hitch.

But it wasn’t enough for Lisa, and that’s why Len’s team is down to two. And even though he and Mick might be a good duo, fire and water aren’t enough. They need an earthbender.

Len goes through his mental list of “friends” in Republic City:

  * James—Clever, but not a bender.
  * Mark—Water. Redundant.
  * Bivolo—Fire. Redundant.
  * Roscoe—Air (courtesy of Avatar Korra’s decision to keep the spirits portals open). Not applicable.
  * Rathaway—Earth, but not a fighter. 



It’s not exactly a promising line-up. So what’s Len’s plan? At the moment, it’s having a drink in a Republic City dive bar while the clock ticks down to the match (fifty-five minutes, fifty-two seconds left), and hoping he thinks up something brilliant. Len’s good at planning. Improvising at the last second? Not so much.

“What’s the plan, boss?” Mick asks, as if he could read minds. Len could probably read Mick’s, but that’s because there’s only two things rolling around in there: fire and money. Usually just fire. “Should we just keep the cash and back out?”

“Don’t be a fool,” Len says sharply. “Do you know what we get if we win the championship?”

“Uh . . . more money?” Mick wasn’t exactly known for his stunning wit.

“Besides that. We’d be on top, Mick. We’d rule this city.”

Okay, so maybe that was going a little far. But a title like that (and the money that came with it) went a long way. Len had a flair for the dramatic. And the chance to be known as the best at what he did? He couldn’t pass it up.

“Is this about winning the championship or beating the Flash?” Mick asks gruffly.

The Central City Speedsters have a quirky way of nicknaming all of their players. Their earthbender (and assigner of nicknames), Cisco Ramon, is called “Vibe” (he likes using vibrations in earthbending to anticipate his opponents’ moves). Their waterbender (and designated medic), Caitlin Snow, is nicknamed “Killer Frost”, even though using ice in matches is illegal (don’t make her angry outside the ring, just don’t). And their firebender (and de facto leader), Barry Allen, is dubbed “The Flash”, because of his speedy reflexes.

Len doesn’t exactly hate Barry. The kid just has a habit of making his life difficult, especially since outside the ring, Barry is a CSI for Chief Beifong’s police force. Of course, inside the ring, there’s only so much damage the two rivals can do without getting a red fan. But outside the ring, there’s a silent acknowledgement that if Len messes with Barry’s team, he’ll get fried with more electricity than it takes to power a stadium, and if Barry messes with Len’s team, he’ll end up with third-degree frostbite.

“Beating the Scarlet Speedster would just be icing on the cake,” Len mutters. Provided he can find the necessary ingredients to make the cake in the first place.

As Len takes another sip of his drink, he hears a bit of conversation. It’s coming from a muscular male earthbender and a petite woman in black. He catches a hint of a red flower tattooed on her wrist. Interesting.

“How about I get you a drink?” the man asks, running his finger through the woman’s hair. He’s standing a little too close to her and she’s not looking at all happy with it. Len can’t help but notice—it’s part of being a big brother. If Lisa were in this situation, he’d ice the guy in a second.

“Tempting,” the woman says drily, with her arms crossed. “But you’re not my type.”

“What is your type?” he says, moving closer. Len has got to hand it to the girl, though. She’s not intimidated by this creep. Not in the least.

“Well, for starters, dumb and ugly aren’t on the list,” she says casually. This aggravates the man, causing him to glare and grab her hand. Len moves a tiny step forward for a second, forgetting this isn’t Lisa.

“That’s it, you’re coming with me, bitch,” the creep growls. The woman just rolls her eyes and twists his arm around, causing him to scream in pain. She glances back at Len, a smug smile on her face.

“I got this.” Len gives her a nod, heeding her words. Mick looks over at him with a grin. Somehow, neither of them doubt her for a second.

The woman, whoever she is, isn’t messing around. When her assailant recovers from her initial strike, he steadies himself and launches five rocks at her, but she whips out a bow staff and strikes each projectile as it comes, leaving bits of shattered earth around her. She smirks at the mess and shifts her stance. Then the rubble consolidates itself into one huge boulder that slams her opponent against a nearby wall.

Len raises an eyebrow and looks at Mick. An earthbender who can also fight without bending. That’s unusual—but it’s also advantageous. A lot of benders only base their movements off of bending forms and it limits their options. But non-bending fighting styles are just as useful for inspiration.

Just look at this female earthbender. She’s dodging every blow from the creep and his friends, sliding underneath their earth and metal attacks with the agile grace of a bird. And when she does use her bending, she treats it as if she’s engaged in a fist fight, using her opponents’ strength against her, making it so that the battle is on her terms.

Then a waterbenderbender joins the fray, changing the odds. The woman turns to Lenand Mick.

“Now I could use a little help,” she says casually. Len doesn’t hesitate for a second. With a sharp grin, he uses his bending to lift the beer-filled bottles lining the bar, and gives Mick a nod. Len launches the bottles towards the creep and his friends, and at the last second, Mick sends a few sharp blasts of fire that way, igniting the alcohol inside the glass—effectively creating a firebomb.

And effectively getting them kicked out of the bar (or what’s left of it), female earthbender in tow.

“That was fun,” she says with a smirk, even as the earthbender she was fighting walks off, yelling obscenities all the while.

“Got a name, blondie?” asks Mick, who takes in a deep breath of the fading smoke.

“Sara Lance,” she says with a cool nod. “You?”

“Mick.”

She turns to Len, giving him the once-over and raising an eyebrow.

“Leonard Snart,” he says.

She chuckles at his name. “You should get a refund on your birth certificate.”

He shrugs. “That’s not important.”

“What is?”

“I saw you fight in there. Your style is . . .” He searches for the right word, wanting to compliment her, but not praise her. “Unique.”

“He means badass,” says Mick with a grin. Sara smirks back and turns back to Len.

“So?”

“I’ve got a proposition for you.”

She raises her eyebrow again. “Do tell.”

“We’ve got a pro-bending match in less than an hour, and our earthbender is a little under the weather. We need someone to fill in, at least temporarily.”

She cocks her head. “What’s in it for me?”

Len hides a grin. That’s the first thing he’d ask too. “If we lose, nothing. If we win, maybe a cut of the championship pot in the end.”

“But that’s only if you win all the other matches too.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that. As soon as our usual earthbender is up and kicking, we’ll destroy the competition.”

“Yeah, but what if your earthbender doesn’t get better? Or you’re not as good as you say you are? If I’m going to help you win this match, I’m going to need insurance that you win the others, too.”

“What kind of insurance?” Damn it, she’s smart.

“Simple. You put me on the team. Permanently, or at least until the championships are over.”

“Lisa’s not gonna like this,” Mick sings under his breath. Len gives him a sharp glare.

He weighs the alternatives. They’ve got forty-five minutes left before the match. That means ten minutes to get to the arena, and another ten to plan and warm-up. That leaves him twenty-five minutes. That’s not enough time to find a decent earthbender, let alone one that can measure up to Sara.

“Deal,” he says. “Welcome to the Republic City Rogues.”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” Sara snarks.


	2. Noodles, Questions, and Bad Ideas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Len asks about Sara's past. She's less than forthcoming.

“That’s without a doubt the most disturbing thing I have ever seen,” Sara says, and given her past, that’s saying something.

“I told you this was bad idea, but you didn’t listen,” Snart mutters. He turns his head to look at Sara—or maybe just to avoid the gruesome sight of Mick shoveling Flameo Noodles into his mouth like there’s no tomorrow. She returns his gaze, feeling like it’s a challenge. Well, she’s not gonna budge first.

“I’ll bite,” he says after a minute. “What’s your story?”

“Well, I was having a good time at a bar until a creep hit on me, we got into a fight, he had me outnumbered, so I asked a pair of psychos for help, got kicked out of a bar, and ended up joining the aforementioned psychos’ pro-bending team. Oh, and then we kicked Barry Allen’s ass and went out for victory noodles, which was a mistake. The end.” She bats her eyelashes at Snart and he rolls his eyes.

“I meant your story in general, not the story of today,” he responds.

“Maybe this is where my story begins,” she suggests. “It was off to a good start, until the noodles.”

“Okay, I guess I’ll have to make up your backstory.”

_Well, this should be interesting._ “Do tell.”

“Here it goes: you’ve trained for a long time with an elite group. I’m not sure which, though. Kyoshi Warriors don’t take benders, and you’re not robotic enough to be Dai Li. Your style is too unconventional to be pro-bending, and I’ve never seen you on any of the rosters anyway. Maybe you’re an ex-cop, but somehow I doubt that.

“Whoever it was took you in, but you weren’t always part of that group. You had another life before that. That’s why you said your story starts here, because you don’t think of your life as one long narrative, but as a series of stories. This is just the beginning of a new one.

“And . . . you’ve got seven knives hidden in that outfit that you can metalbend out at any time.”

She looks at him for a second, staring into his sharp blue eyes. His guess, while vague, isn’t wrong. Leonard Snart’s perceptive, as well as a good fighter. He stares back at her with a smirk. Half of her wants to wipe that smug look off his face, and the other half wants to kiss it off.

She leans in dangerously close, barely half and inch away from him, and whispers “Nine.”

“Hmm?” Snart asks casually, but she sees him stiffen a little. He’s trying not to show it, but he’s not comfortable with her this close.

"You were wrong. There are nine knives in this outfit, not seven.”

For a second, he just stares at her. Then, slowly he leans in—

And pulls back, distracted by the sound of nearby retching. It sounds like booze and noodles aren’t a great mix for Mick. Sara leans back as Snart turns, picks up his hefty friend and leads him towards the dumpsters outside. Snart sighs, but he doesn’t complain, like he’s used to this by now.

Sara twists a little on her stool, watching them. It’s probably good that Mick interrupted . . . whatever that was. Relationships have always been a mess for her, and hooking up with the leader of her new team is a bad idea, especially since she’s probably just going to leave Republic City after the tournament’s over.

Sara glances out the window, watching Snart stand guard over Mick. He notices her staring and stares back, issuing another silent challenge with a cool smirk. She smirks back with equal force. Challenge accepted.

After all, it’s not as if Sara’s ever been known to have good ideas.


	3. "Lenny", huh?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lisa meets her replacement. It somehow goes both better and worse than Len expected.

Len expected Lisa to throw a fit when she found out her spot on the team had been given away. Lisa’s not exactly petty, per se, but she can get pretty pissed when you take something that’s hers. And this is a bit of a big deal, giving away her position for the rest of the tourney—especially since he didn’t even ask her permission. So really, all things considered, he was expecting a tantrum.

A tantrum would actually be better, come to think of it. Because instead of being mad at Len and mean to Sara, Lisa’s just sitting on the bleachers, watching them train with a smirk on her face. Like she knows something. It’s the same smirk Len usually has on his face, but it’s unnerving to see someone else wearing it for a change. 

“You’ve been awful quiet,” he says, taking a break and sitting next to her. “Well?” 

“Well, what, Lenny?” she says, glancing over at him. He rolls his eyes. 

“What do you think?” He glances over at Sara, who’s taken a break from earthbending forms and moved on to climbing the salmon ladder. She says that since bending is an extension of your body, it’s important to strengthen all your muscles, not just a few. He tries not to notice her quickly making her way up the rungs, but it’s hard to ignore. Mick would probably be watching, too, if he wasn’t fascinated with a little fire he’s started. 

“She seems strong. Smart. Attractive. Your type.” 

“Not what I meant.” 

“What? Am I not allowed to even try to set you up?” Lisa asks with a pout. “Lenny, you haven’t gone on a date in years.” 

“Not true. What about that scientist, Valentina? That was a month ago.” 

“You took her to the ballet so you could steal her lab ID for a job.” Okay, so maybe that doesn’t fall under the normal definition of a date. But to be fair, Leonard Snart doesn’t have a normal life. Why should his dating life, when it does exist, be normal? 

“Well, when was your last date?” he fires back. 

“Two weeks ago,” she says smugly. 

Okay, maybe he didn’t want to know that. “I’m just finding this out now?” 

“You’re not dad, Lenny.” 

“I know. Dad’s in jail. Sterling role model. So, who’d you go out with?” 

“Are you going to stab him with an icicle?” 

“Maybe.” 

“What are you talking about?” Sara asks, coming up to them. Snart scoots over, making a little bit of room for her on the bleachers. Lisa’s smirk comes back, if ever so subtly.

“Oh, nothing. Lenny’s just threatening to impale my boyfriend.” Len shoots her a glare. _You can’t just say something like that in front of Sara, Lisa, she barely knows us._ Leonard Snart doesn’t generally care what people think of him, but he knows his chances of keeping Sara on the team will drop drastically if Lisa goes around saying things like that. Sara doesn’t know that he’s a thief, much less capable of murder. 

But Sara doesn’t freak out. She just chuckles. “Typical older sibling, huh, ‘Lenny’?” 

“Don’t even think about it,” he warns. “Only Lisa gets to call me that.” 

“Oh, that’s not the best nickname he’s got,” Lisa says with a smile. 

“Oh, really?” 

“You know the earthbender for the Central City Speedsters? The cute one with long dark hair?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Well, his name’s Cisco. He likes to give pro-benders nicknames, even if they’re not on his team. Mick’s Heatwave, I’m Golden Glider, and Lenny here . . . is Captain Cold.” 

“Captain?” Sara asks, rolling her eyes. 

“Because I outrank all three of you,” Len says with a smirk. He’s actually always liked that title. 

“Wonder what my nickname should be,” Sara muses, messing with a strand of her hair. It’s funny how easily she fits in here—really, a nickname is all she’s missing. 

“Dunno. I’ll ask Cisco at dinner tonight,” Lisa says with a mischievous glint in her eye. Len raises an eyebrow. So _that’s_ who she’s going out with. “Unless, of course, someone impales him.” 

“Can’t make any promises.” He’s just saying that, though. Cisco’s a pretty good kid, even if he is on the rival team. He won’t hurt Lisa, so there’s really no reason to hurt him. 

“Maybe all this talk of impaling people is why you don’t have a girlfriend,” Lisa replies. Len grits his teeth. She just _had_ to bring that up again, and in front of Sara. Fantastic.

“No, I’m pretty sure it’s because he’s too busy getting thrown out of bars,” Sara says with a smirk. 

Len sighs. Having these two meet was definitely a bad idea.


	4. Some things run even deeper than a bloodlust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Wait! Lance is still attacking Kendra. She’s sending more disks at her, and I’ve never seen anything like it. Kendra’s back on her feet, but Lance’s attacks are moving her backwards fast. An illegal headshot clocks Kendra, sending her into the drink. I don’t know what the Rogues are playing at, but this goes beyond unnecessary roughness! Lance has lost all control!"
> 
> No kidding.

It’s been two hours since the quarter-final ended, but Sara hasn’t gone back to her ratty apartment yet. Instead, she’s still in the training gym, earthbending disks with everything she’s got. She closes her eyes, trying to block out the announcer’s voice. But she can’t help it. Every word is repeating itself in her brain. 

 _Ooh, and it looks like neither the Republic City Rogues or St. Roch’s Hawks have advanced a single zone. Round three will be decided by a tie-breaker!_

Just keep bending the disks. Don’t think about it, just don’t. 

 _The Rogues win the coin toss and choose earth, letting newcomer Sara Lance take the stage against Kendra Saunders. I don’t know who’s been training this Lance, but she’s shown in the past match that she’s anything but a rookie. That girl’s got some serious bending skills! Saunders had better watch her back._

The disks drop, as if they weighed a thousand tons. Sara resists the urge to scream. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It wasn’t supposed to fall apart. 

 _And Lance is hitting Saunders with a barrage of brilliant bending! The Hawk puts up a good defense, but is it enough? Lance is fighting with everything she’s got! Oh, and she gives Kendra a direct hit to the stomach, forcing her off the circle. The third match goes to the—_

Trust her to screw something up just when things were going well. Just when she actually had made a few friends. 

 _Wait! Lance is still attacking Kendra. She’s sending more disks at her, and I’ve never seen anything like it. Kendra’s back on her feet, but Lance’s attacks are moving her backwards fast. An illegal headshot clocks Kendra, sending her into the drink. I don’t know what the Rogues are playing at, but this goes beyond unnecessary roughness! Lance has lost all control!_

No shit. 

 _The Hawks win the third round, and Sara Lance is removed from the match with a red fan._

At least they still ended up winning the match—or, at least, Snart and Mick did. They’ll probably give Lisa her place back after tonight, and Sara doesn’t blame them in the least. 

She’s about to start bending again when she hears a familiar, drawling voice. 

“Don’t you ever sleep, Sara?” Snart wonders, leaning against a nearby doorframe. 

“What do you want, Snart?” she asks, avoiding the question. The truth is, Sara Lance doesn’t get a lot of sleep most nights. It’s a bit hard to, when the monster in the dark—the one you’re so terrified of—is yourself. 

“Thought I’d check on you,” he says, sitting on a nearby bleacher, and she’s surprised to hear a bit of sincerity in his voice. “I didn’t know where you lived, so I decided to look here. Of course, I assumed you’d have something better to do than make a mess of the gym.” 

“Look, I already know what you’re going to say, and you’re right,” Sara starts, ready for the difficult conversation ahead. What she’s not ready for is Snart interrupting her. 

“I doubt you know what I’m going to say, Sara. I’d hate to think I’m that predictable.” 

Normally, a comment like that would make Sara roll her eyes or smirk, but this time she just doesn’t even respond to it. She grabs her bag and starts packing in her supplies and her water bottle. Snart raises an eyebrow, and for a second, Sara almost thinks there’s a hint of concern in his eyes, but it’s gone in an instant, replaced by his usual cold, detached look. 

“Look, it’s fine. I’ll just get out of your hair and you can put Lisa back on the team. I get it.” 

“I have to say, I’m disappointed, Sara,” Snart says, in the same drawling tone he always uses. There’s something in his dispassionate voice that sends a surge of anger through Sara. He’s not worried about her, he’s just disappointed that his new star player turned out to be a psycho. Well, he won’t have to worry about that problem for much longer. 

“Well, you know wh—” 

“I’m disappointed, because I thought you were stronger than that,” he finishes, cutting her off. There’s candor in the statement, even if it’s said in his usual snarky way. Sara’s anger is still there, but now it’s simmering beneath a fresh wave of confusion. You have to hand it to Snart—she couldn’t have predicted him saying that. 

“Stronger than what?” she snaps, glaring at his too-calm blue eyes. If anything, today’s mishap showed that Sara _is_ strong—and she can’t control it. 

“Stronger than quitting after your first failure. You snapped, Sara. You lost your cool and I won’t deny there’s something about you that’s . . . off. But you weren’t in control of your actions.”

“And how would you know?” _He doesn’t. He doesn’t know just how much of a monster I am._

“Believe me, I know what it looks like when someone enjoys causing pain. That wasn’t it. You’re not a monster, Sara, and you weren’t in control. So now you’ve got two options.” 

“When the hell did you become my therapist?” she growls. _And when did you start reading my mind?_ Leonard Snart is giving her life advice. Fantastic. 

He ignores that question. “Option one is what you were about to do. Give up, walk out of here, and never come back. It’s the easy option, I’ll admit. It’s also . . . cowardly, weak, and spineless.” 

Sara knows he’s trying to bait her, but she goes for it anyway. “And option two?” 

He’s more serious this time. This is the start of his selling pitch, she can tell. “Stay. Work through . . . whatever that was. You’re a member of this team now, whether you like it or not. We’re not just going to throw you out. You’ve got issues? Join the club. You’re a rage maniac. Me, Lisa, and Mick? We rob people for a living. We’re all pretty damn far from perfect. But we’re Rogues, and that comes with an unspoken code. And if you stay with us, that becomes your code too.” 

Another lure. “What’s the code?” 

“We watch each other’s backs. To the end.” And for once, there’s not a hint of sarcasm or irony in Snart’s voice. He means this. He’s not just asking her to stay on the team. He’s asking her to be part of his life—of this odd little family he’s got, even if he’d never admit to thinking of them in that way. Snart isn’t worried about keeping a teammate—he’s worried about keeping a friend. 

“Do I still get a cut of the grand prize?” she asks with a smile, even though she really couldn’t care less at this point. She’s already sold. 

“I think I might have to take 5% of your share, but you’re still in the budget,” he says with a smirk. “So. Are you still in?” 

“Yeah, I guess so.” Sara sticks out her hand. Snart stares at it for a second before shaking it. A tiny voice in her head tells Sara that this isn’t going to work. Snart’s going to kick her out the second he finds out about her past. He doesn’t really know her yet. He doesn’t know what she’s been through or what’s eating her up from the inside. 

But he’s seen her at her worst, and that didn’t scare him. So maybe, Snart was right, a few nights ago when he was trying to come up with her background. 

Maybe this is where her new story begins.


	5. What Doesn't Kill You . . .

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Len helps Sara recover from a pro-bending injury. She has a few questions about scars--not that he necessarily wants to talk about them.

“Remind me again why I can’t kill Adam Fells,” growls Sara, glaring at her black and blue shoulder. 

“Because if you do, you’ll end up in prison, and Mick and I will have to break you out,” Len says, very calmly. He gently places a hand on her shoulder. He knows that, as violent as Sara can get, she’s not serious about killing Fells. She’s just pissed he dislocated her shoulder with an earthbending disk. “And while I enjoy a prison break as much as the next guy, we’ve only got a week before the finals, so I don’t have the time to sit look at prison blueprints and steal guard uniforms.” 

“Whatever,” she mutters. “At least we beat his stupid team. What type of name is ‘the Geomancers’, anyway?” 

“Only one team left to fight,” Len muses, ignoring the question. “All we have to do is beat the West Haven Hornets.” 

“Easier said than done. I’ve heard they’ve got a long history of knockouts—and hattricks.” 

“So if we’re going to be ready, we’ll need to practice all week. Therefore, you” He twists her shoulder on this word, snapping it back into place. Sara almost screams, but she quickly grits her teeth instead. “don’t have time to kill Fells and go to prison.” 

“Holy lion turtle, that hurts,” Sara curses, feeling her shoulder. “What the hell did you do, Snart?” 

“I reset your shoulder. You’re welcome.” 

“How long before it’s healed?” Sara asks. She doesn’t bother to thank him, but he didn’t bother to apologize for the pain, so they’re even. 

Len sighs. He’s no doctor, but he knows that if he just leaves her shoulder as it is, she’ll be stuck in a sling for months. He could do that, and put Lisa back on the team. 

He could, but he’s not going to. 

Here’s the thing: Leonard Snart’s not afraid of hurting people. When you’re a good thief and a good pro-bender, it’s part of your skillset. So Len’s used to putting people in pain. Sometimes he even enjoys it. 

What he doesn’t like is when someone hurts one of his friends. There aren’t a lot of people he cares about, but Sara Lance is one of the chosen few, along with Mick and Lisa. He’ll never admit it, but the second he accepts someone as a teammate or a partner, he gets this automatic protective instinct. Call it part of being an older brother. 

Leonard Snart, by and large, looks out for himself. But he also spends more time than he’d like to admit looking out for others. 

“Not long,” Len mutters, drawing a stream of water out of his canteen. He watches the water glow as he moves it onto Sara’s shoulder. He can fix this. After all, he’s seen worse. 

Sara raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t take you for the healing type, Snart.” She lets out a happy sigh, which is a good sign. “That feels amazing. You should’ve become a nurse instead of a thief.” 

“Terrible bedside manner,” he quips. 

“Can I ask a personal question?” she says, looking up at him. There’s a certain curiosity in her eyes, but it’s tempered by caution. It’s like she’s saying  _I want to know more about you, but I get it if you don’t want to talk._  

It’s the same feeling Len’s had ever since she went berserk and attacked Kendra. He wants to know what’s going on, but he’s been keeping his distance from the subject. Emotions aren’t his specialty, and he’s pretty sure they’re not Sara’s either. And personal questions? He’s not a fan. 

So he just deflects it with a joke. “No, I’m not going to play doctor with you.” 

“Not _that_ kind of question,” she says. “Although I wouldn’t be too opposed to that, once my shoulder heals.” 

He smirks. “I’ll bite. What’s the actual question?” 

“If you can heal, why do you and Mick have so many scars?” she asks. “I’ve seen them when we train. Mick’s got third-degree burns, for crying out loud, and you’re not much better. Why don’t you just fix all of them?” 

He answers the easier part of her question first. “Mick would hate me if I fixed his burns. He’s obsessed with fire, Sara. You had to have realized that by now. To him, those scars make him who he is.” 

Sara nods. “I understand that. Most scars have stories behind them. They’re part of your identity sometimes.” 

“What is it with you and stories?” Len mutters, still healing her shoulder. But silently, he briefly wonders what stories some of her scars would tell—and what they’d look like up close. He’s noticed them during training, casually scattered along her body the way most people have scattered freckles. 

“If Mick’s burns remind him of fire, what do yours remind you of?” Sara wonders. “Why did you keep them?” 

There’s a million answers to that question. 

_I kept them to remember that I made it out, that I survived. I kept them because I was too busy fixing Lisa’s to worry about my own. I kept them because they remind me not to let anyone hurt me again. I kept them because most of them came from stepping in between him and Lisa. I kept them because I don’t care how many scars I get as long as my sister’s safe. I kept them because even if they were gone, it wouldn’t change the past. It wouldn’t magically make it all better._

He settles for an old, but accurate, cliché. 

“You know what they say,” Len murmurs, still healing her shoulder. “What doesn’t kill you . . .” 

“Makes you stronger,” Sara finishes. “Still doesn’t make up for all the shit that life throws at you.” 

“Or what Adam Fells throws at you,” he says drily, thinking about that earthbending disk. He draws the water back, carefully. “Your shoulder’s done. For today, at least. If it gives you any trouble, let me know immediately.” 

“Aw, you do care.” 

“No, I just don’t want to have to switch earthbenders before the big tournament. It’d screw up the team’s chemistry.” The word slips out before Len even thinks about what it means. He immediately realizes the mistake and wishes he could go back and say something like “rhythm” instead. 

Instead of teasing him about it, Sara moves a step closer to him, a smirk on her face. Len almost flinches, but he doesn’t move. There’s something nice about having her this close. Any closer and he’d be completely hypnotized by her scent—you’d expect an earthbender to smell like something ordinary or filthy, like mud, but that’s not what Sara smells like. Her fragrance is that of sharp pine. If Len closed his eyes, he could almost imagine he was in a forest. 

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” Sara whispers, her voice alarming close to his ear. Hearing her breath tickle on his skin is what sends Len over the edge. He closes the distance between the two of them, leaning down to bring his lips to hers. Sara’s arms come around him as she kisses him back, her tongue playfully meeting his. 

Talking is hard, but this? This is elementary; this is natural. There’s something that just feels right about having Sara in his arms, about tasting her lips. She’s pressing him hard against the nearby wall, but Len doesn’t care. There’s been a not-so-subtle tension between them ever since she joined the Rogues. But in this minute, it’s all pleasantly evaporating. 

They pull back for a second, still wrapped in each other, but panting. Sara looks up to smile at Len, a glint in her eye. She’s about to say something when the door opens. They both turn, still somewhat tangled in each other. Lisa grins at them, leaning against the doorframe triumphantly. 

“Mick owes me 130 yuans. He said you wouldn’t hook up until after the finals.”


	6. Winner Takes All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And then she sees it, out of the corner of her eyes: the tank. He’s moving the water so that the Rogues’ half of the arena is exposed, while in the other half, a large, swirling wave has formed. Sara can’t hear the announcer anymore, though she doesn’t know if that’s because of the audience is screaming at the top of their lungs, or because he might’ve run away in terror. 
> 
> “Wonder what type of problems normal people have,” Snart mutters.

Sara looks at herself in the mirror, arrayed in her storm-gray Rogues uniform. This is it—there’s only a few more minutes before the finals start. She tightens the green sash around her waist in expectation, an excited grin on her face. The West Haven Hornets are going _down_. 

“Got any winning speeches, boss?” Mick asks, putting on his helmet. Despite his usual gruff manner, Sara can see a grin on his face. He’s just as ready to kick ass as she is. 

“Sara, you cover defense unless you see an opening,” Snart says, standing up. “Me and Mick will cover offense for the first round. Hit hard, but don’t do anything . . .” he struggles for the right word. Stupid? Crazy? Psychotic? “Reckless.” 

“I think he was looking for something more motivational, Lenny,” Lisa says, giving her older brother a hug. “Break a leg.” 

“Whose do you want?” he asks with a smirk, hugging her back. “Thanks for coming.” 

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she says, turning to hug Mick. Then she turns to Sara. Sara’s not usually a touchy-feely person, but she reciprocates the hug anyway. After all, Lisa’s been pretty nice to her, considering she A) took her spot on team, B) went psycho and almost lost them a match, and C) kissed her brother. 

As they step into the hallway, Lisa leaves, making her way to the stands. The rest of them head to the platform. With every step, Sara can feel her heart beating faster and faster. She’s no stranger to stress, and she’s faced worse than a pro-bending final, but there’s still something about the match that makes her stomach flutter. 

Or maybe that’s just the silent feeling of Snart’s eyes on her. Part of her wonders if he’s scrutinizing her, checking to see if that time-bomb part of her is about to go off. Neither of them brought up the incident against the Hawks, not since he persuaded her to join the team, but she feels like he and Mick are silently waiting to see if she loses it again. 

On the other hand, maybe he’s watching her because neither of them have really talked about what happened when he was healing her shoulder. They’ve kept up their usual banter, but the tension, which completely disappeared when they kissed, has come back with a vengeance. Usually, Sara wouldn’t wait to make a move, but in this case, it’s a bit more complicated. When they’re in the ring, she and Snart are teammates. Any shift in that dynamic could upset the team’s balance. 

_Not that things have exactly been the same_ , she thinks, but they’ve both been good at pretending to be normal, even if Lisa and Mick are always stealing glances at them, waiting for some declaration of undying love, or at least a relationship. Well, screw that. If Snart had anything to say, he would’ve said it. 

Sara shakes the thoughts out of her head as they step onto the platform. _Head in the game. You can worry about your non-existent love life later._ As if reading her mind, Snart looks at her. She stares back, still determined not to be the first one to blink. He opens his mouth for a second, but closes it, like he doesn’t know what to say. Instead of speaking, he gives her a nod. _Ready?_ She nods back. _Ready._ Mick just rolls his eyes. 

“The Republic City Rogues!” the announcer yells. The crowd roars, causing Snart to sneak a smile (no, not a smirk) at Sara. The Rogues have been climbing in popularity ever since the tourney started, something Snart attributes to her. Sara smiles back and skims the crowd. She can see Lisa sitting with Cisco and the rest of the Central City Speedsters. Ironically, they’ve all got posters that say things like “Go Rogue or Go Home”. Snart follows her gaze, rolling her eyes. 

“Only Barry Allen would show up to support his biggest rival,” he mutters, but there’s still a glint in his eye. 

“And on the other side of the ring, the West Haven Hornets!” the announcer shouts. Sara turns to see the other platform raise. At first, the other team is hard to see, but as it rises, she makes out their features. The waterbender is strangely pale and tall, with white-blond hair and a sickening smile. The firebender is a petite woman with cold eyes. She’s never met either of them before. But the earthbender is shockingly familiar. He has short dark hair and broad shoulders. There’s a focused intensity in his eyes, which focus on Sara. He says two words, and even through the roar of applause, Sara recognizes them, as clearly as she recognizes Malcolm Merlyn. 

_Ta-er al-Sahfer,_  he says.The Canary. She turns to Snart. 

“We have to forfeit,” she whispers. 

He stares at her like she’s nuts. “What?” 

“That’s not an ordinary pro-bending team. They’re not here to win the championship.” 

“What _are_ they here for, then? Because I doubt it’s just to take in the scenery,” he whispers drily. 

“Get out of here,” she hisses. “I’ll take care of it.” 

“The hell you will, Sara, what’s going on?” 

“Hey, lovebirds!” Mick hollers from the innermost zone. “The match is starting.” 

“Leave,” Sara says firmly, glaring at Snart. “They’re here for me. Get out while you still can.” 

“Not a chance,” he snaps, stepping up to the right side of the zone. Sara follows frustratedly and stands between him and Mick. There’s no time to fight with Snart. All she can do is play Merlyn’s game and hope she’s good enough to beat him. 

“Hornets?” Sara says to Merlyn, her tone dripping with disdain. “Sounds like you’re asking to get stomped on.” 

“I like to think of us as more of a hive,” he replies coolly. “A unit that can act in tandem when provoked.” 

“I’d get ready, then,” Mick mutters. “I always had a habit of kicking the hornet’s nest.” 

“Round 1!” calls the announcer. The Rogues ready their stances, watching Merlyn’s team do the same. Sara’s tension comes flooding back. She’s not fighting for the championship anymore. She’s fighting for her life—and Snart and Mick’s lives. 

She aims her first disk at Malcolm’s head, but he sends it flying back at her with barely a wave of his hand. The satisfaction on his face is clear as she narrowly ducks under it. _You’ll have to do better than that._ Sara digs deep, trying to access that force inside her, that bloodlust that attacked Kendra, but she can’t find it, only fear and frustration. 

“What happened to staying on the defensive?” Snart says, blocking a hit from the firebender. “And not doing anything reckless?” 

“That was before I knew we were getting in the ring with Malcolm Merlyn,” she replies, sending a disk at the Hornet’s waterbender. Merlyn stretches out a hand, causing the disk to fall to the ground before it can make contact. “He’s not here to win, Leonard. He’s here to kill me, along with you and Mick if you don’t get out of here.” 

“Well, this just got interesting,” Mick growls, sending a fireblast at the female firebender. She sends it back, channelling it into a blue flame that Snart quickly douses. 

“This is all a flashy diversion,” Malcolm says, “but I’d rather not drag this out for four rounds.” He nods at the waterbender. “Darhk?” 

Darhk smiles, shifting his stance. He begins to push and pull, but he’s not moving the water out of the grates in the field. Sara looks around, confused. What’s Darhk bending? And then she sees it, out of the corner of her eyes: the tank. He’s moving the water so that the Rogues’ half of the arena is exposed, while in the other half, a large, swirling wave has formed. Sara can’t hear the announcer anymore, though she doesn’t know if that’s because of the audience is screaming at the top of their lungs, or because he might’ve run away in terror. 

“Wonder what type of problems normal people have,” Snart mutters. 

“What’re you playing at?” she yells at Merlyn, gesturing to the audience. “These people are innocent. They have nothing to do with Ba-Sing-Se or the Red Lotus. You have no reason to drown them.” 

“That was never the plan,” he says. The firebender sends a jet of flame towards Sara. She dodges left to avoid it, but as she does so, Merlyn sends a disk at her. She sees it coming, but there’s no time to avoid it, and the relentless force Merlyn gives it pushes her back, over the edge of the field. 

“SARA!” Snart yells, but his voice is becoming distant. All Sara feels is the gravity pulling her down, down, down and the cold concrete rising up to meet her. There’s no time for her life to flash before her eyes. Sara braces, ready to feel every bone in her body crack. In her last seconds, she tries to calm herself, recalling old words from a mentor: _Enter the void, empty and become wind._  

But Sara doesn’t become wind. She just stops. 

There’s only two feet between Sara and the ground, and she stops. Or, to be more accurate, her body stops. Sara’s mind is still racing as she lets out a breath. This is impossible. She should be bleeding on the concrete, half (if not completely) dead. But there’s something suspending her body in the air, like an invisible string. 

The force lifts her up, higher and higher. Sara wants to scream, but she can’t move at all. She’s not the one in control. She can only watch as she rises, feeling like a puppet forced into a dance she doesn’t know. 

When Sara is level with the field, she sees Snart, his hand outstretched. As he pulls it back, she’s set down, gently. She looks at him, confused and alarmed. This time, he can’t meet her eyes. There’s a look of fear on his face, fear and shame. His hands curl into fists at his sides. 

“It looks like you’re full of surprises, Mr. Snart,” Merlyn says with a harsh laugh. Sara feels a chill go up her spine. _Bloodbender. That’s what Snart is_. 

Sara’s body slumps as Snart lets go, his eyes still stuck on the ground. She stands up, not wasting a second. She stretches out her hands, ripping the metal grates from the ground and sending them flying at Merlyn. As the fly through the air, Mick sends a bolt of lightning towards the projectiles, electrifying them—along with Merlyn. 

As he falls to the ground with a howl of pain, Sara searches for his two teammates. But Darhk and the woman are long gone, and the tank water is back to its normal level. 

“Is it over?” Mick asks, looking at Merlyn. She’s not sure if he’s asking her or Snart, who’s still staring at the ground in shock. 

“No,” Sara whispers, watching metalbender police swarm the arena. “It’s not.”


	7. The Story Behind Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snart won't talk. So Sara does the talking.

Chapter 7

Usually, Leonard Snart goes an average of two minutes without talking. Even when he’s scared, he can come back with a witty retort, no problem. Because that’s what he’s good at: deflecting his problems with sarcasm until he’s fixed them. Biting humor is a pretty good smokescreen for covering up what’s wrong.

Except in this circumstance. Because, for once, there’s no smokescreen that can cover this up. There’s no use in covering up a problem that’s already been exposed—exposed to Sara, Mick, the Hornets, and hundreds of innocent bystanders. You can’t deny a crime with that many witnesses.

_And you can’t fix the fact that you’re a bloodbender,_ a voice in his head hisses. _You can’t change who you are. You can’t hide it with your smart mouth._

So Len doesn’t talk when the police arrest him, Sara, Mick, and Merlyn. He doesn’t speak when they slip handcuffs on his wrists (the special kind that shock you if you try to bend). He doesn’t let a single syllable slip during the ride to the police station. Even when the cops stare at him like he’s going to explode at any second, he doesn’t say a word.

It’s Sara who talks first, when the police lock the three of them in a holding cell apart from Merlyn.

“Where were you during Harmonic Convergence?” she says softly, looking at the cell bars. She won’t look him in the eye, and Len doesn’t blame her for a second. You don’t look a monster in the eye. If you’re smart, you run.

But then again, there’s nowhere for Sara and Mick to go.

“Prison,” Mick mutters. “We both were. But the spirit vines wrecked the building and we, err, _evacuated_.”

Escaped, he means. Varrick wasn’t the only one who got a lucky break thanks to the Convergence.

Sara nods. “I was at the South Pole. I was on a ship called _The Gambit_ with . . . a guy.” There’s a note of shame and regret in her voice. “My sister’s boyfriend, actually.”

“And the ongoing Civil War just happened to slip your mind when you went on that trip?” Snart says drily. He shouldn’t be making jibes, but it just slips out.

“Most of the fighting was going on in the North. We thought it was safe in the South, but The Gambit was attacked by dark spirits. I fell overboard in the chaos and I thought I was done for. I was drifting for a while, trapped on a piece of wreckage in the freezing water. No one else made it out alive.”

_Where’s she going with this?_

“One of the dark spirits found me when I was drifting. I thought I was done for, then and there. It passed through me and we merged. Most spirits can’t coexist in bodies with humans. They struggle for dominance and burn out the host. But then I found the spirit portal.”

She lets out a sigh. “You expect dying to be all fear and panic, but it’s not. It’s lonely. Everyone I loved was a million miles away, and there I was, about to die. But when I saw the portal, it was like all of the loneliness went away. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, soft and warm, and every color you can imagine combined. I reached out to touch it, and it healed me—but the dark spirit was still trapped inside me.”

Len thinks back to the day she lost it, almost killing Kendra. He knew, somehow, that she hadn’t been in control; there had been something else fighting inside her for dominance.

“My body survived, but my mind didn’t. The spirit was in control. I was left to wander the wilds of the Spirit World, lost and alone again. But one day, I ran into another human who was meditating. He took me in and taught how to suppress the dark spirit and only let it out when I needed to. His name . . . was Zaheer.”

Len’s eyes dart to the tattoo on her wrist, the one he briefly noticed earlier. How could he be so stupid? It’s the image of a red lotus, plain and simple. That’s who taught her to fight.

“Didn’t take you for a terrorist,” Mick says gruffly.

“The Red Lotus was more than just a terrorist organization,” Sara says firmly. “It was created to fix the problems left in the wake of the Hundred Years’ War—problems that the White Lotus didn’t remedy.”

“You believe all of that?” Len says, resisting the urge to snort. He’s not about to pretend that he’s a hero, but he’s also pretty damn certain the Red Lotus weren’t knights in shining armor. He heard about the riots that broke out in the Earth Kingdom after they killed the queen—it was pure chaos. Even though he’s a criminal, there’s something about complete destruction of law and order than unsettles Len.

“I don’t know. But they took me in, made me stronger, and taught me how to fight.” That part he understands. When he met Mick for the first time, they were both in kids in a youth detention center. Len wouldn’t have made it past the first day if Mick hadn’t stood up for him. Finding someone who’ll have your back without question is rare.

“I was one of the more covert members of the Red Lotus. That’s why I didn’t end up dead or in prison like the rest of its leaders. My main job was to put a stop to the Lotus’s problems . . . discreetly.”

“An assassin,” Len says. It’s a statement, not a question. He’s seen the way she fights, not over-the-top, but with deadly precision. It makes sense.

Sara nods. “Merlyn was also a member of the Red Lotus, but his ideas were . . . divisive. He claimed that Ba-Sing-Se was too corrupt to be saved, that it should be destroyed and cleansed. While the Red Lotus does believe in a new order, his plans were too radical and would’ve killed many innocent people. Zaheer and Merlyn were at odds.

“When Zaheer was imprisoned and his friends destroyed, Merlyn turned most of the remaining Lotus sleeper agents to his side, but he couldn’t destroy Ba-Sing-Se. Kuvira’s forces were greater than even his. So he lurked in the shadows.”

“And now he’s revealed himself to thousands. Why?” Snart asks. “Seems idiotic, if you ask me.”

“He’s making a power play. I wouldn’t join him, so he wants to kill me to show the remaining Zaheer loyalists what happens to his enemies.”

“So why didn’t you run?” Len asks.

“I did, for a few years. Eventually, I came to Republic City to hide. When I joined the Rogues, I thought that the last place Merlyn would look for me would be in the spotlight. But he probably heard the news that a female earthbender almost killed Saunders and recognized my description. From that point, he probably either bribed or threatened his way onto the West Haven Hornets.

“So that’s my story,” Sara says, meeting Len’s eyes this time. He looks away, but he can still feel her gaze on him. “What’s yours?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I’m sorry that this chapter is mainly just Sara talking, but I really felt like she needed to flesh out her backstory verbally to Len and Mick. Hopefully next chapter will be a little more interesting.


	8. To the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If you look for the light, you can often find it, but if you look for the dark, it is all you will ever see,"  
> -Uncle Iroh

Sara’s never told anyone outside of the Red Lotus her story before, but she’s thought about how they’d react. Call her a monster, lock her up, decide to put her down, study her, maybe try to convince her to open up her chakras, ask her if she can reincarnate; there’s a thousand ways it could go.

Silence might be one of the worst, especially from Snart, who never seems to shut up. He hasn’t said a word for about ten minutes; not since she finished her story and an officer took Mick away for questioning. For once, he’s got nothing to say.

Sara studies Snart. He’s sitting against the bars with legs outstretched. His hands rest on the floor, not moving—something that strikes her as odd, given that he always seems to be doing something with his hands, whether it’s fighting, healing, or gesturing as he speaks. His face has its usual cold expression, but his eyes stare vacantly at a nearby wall. Snart might not be doing a lot of talking, but he’s definitely thinking.

“If you’re mad at me, you could just say so,” she says softly, her voice breaking. There’s a vulnerability in telling the truth. Sara’s still wearing her pro-bending armor, but she feels like she’s been stripped bare. _Say something. Tell me I’m a monster, say anything. Just don’t stay silent._

“I’m not,” he says, his eyes snapping back into focus as he tries to put up a mask again. “Can’t really blame you for what happened, although it would’ve been nice to know that Merlyn was going to show up to kill you eventually.”

“It was my problem to deal with.”

“Like you dealt with it at the arena?” Snart snaps. Sara almost flinches at the anger in his voice. It’s not often he slips out of his usual cold demeanour. “Sara, you could’ve _died_.”

“Protecting me isn’t your responsibility!” she fires back. “I’m a killer, Leonard. Hell, I’m a _monster_.”

“No. You’re. Not!” he barks.

“How would you know? You don’t. You don’t know what it’s like to wake up everyday, wondering if it’s the day you’re going to snap. You don’t know what it’s like to stare at yourself and not see a person but what other people made you. You don’t know what it’s like to-”

“To what?” he says, his voice breaking. “Hate yourself? Have the power to hurt other people and hate yourself every second for it? I know exactly what that’s like. There’s a monster in this cell, Lance, but it isn’t you.”

There’s a conviction in his voice, an absolute certainty that he’s right. Sara never thought she’d hear that much self-loathing from someone else. She thought for sure eh was the only one who ever felt that way.

“And what makes you the monster?” she says, softly. “You saved my life.”

“And it terrified you,” he says. “You were never in control of the things you did, Lance. That was Zaheer and the dark spirit. But me? I was always in control.”

“How long . . .?”

“Have I been able to bloodbend?”

“Yeah.”

“At first, I didn’t think I could. My dad could, though. Whenever he was angry because something didn’t go his way, or he had too much to drink, or he was just pissed for no reason, he took it out on my mother. Made her hurt herself.” 

He lets out a sharp sigh. “I didn’t know at the time. I was six, and never around to see it. I thought heard the noise from upstairs, and thought he was the one throwing the punches. I didn’t do anything because I was too scared of being hit too.

“Then Lisa was born. For a while, she was safe because he was stuck in prison, but he came back. Some numbskull let him out on parole. Mom got smart and ran off. One night, I made him mad—don’t ask me how, I don’t remember—and he used his powers to make me grab a knife and . . . and start cutting.” Snart looks down at his arms, and Sara realizes why he didn’t talk about the scars.

“That’s when I realized what he could do. He said it was supposed to teach me a lesson. I guess I was a shitty learner, because the lessons never stopped. It took him a while to realize that the way to get to me wasn’t to hurt me . . . but to hurt Lisa.

“So he started controlling me, made me move toward her with a broken bottle. I got close, so close, but every part of me was screaming not to do it. Something in me just broke loose, and I was free. I was free from his control, but only because I had begun to understand bloodbending. I made Lisa run and didn’t let her stop until she was safe. 

“After that day, he never tried bloodbending on either of us again. We were too evenly matched, me and Dad. So if he was pissed, he went back to using fists, bottle shards, and whatever else he could get.

“Eventually, he went back to prison, and I thought Lisa was safe. But someone told me he had a plan to break out. So I broke in one night and paid him a visit. The next morning, he was found dead, strangled by his own hands. The police covered up his death.” 

“And that’s what makes you a monster?” Sara says, incredulously. “You stopped that bastard from hurting anyone else.”

“And became exactly like him.” Snart tilts his head, looking at her. “You were never in control. I always was.”

“You know what I don’t get about you, Snart? You say you’re a monster, that you only care about yourself, but all you _ever_ do is worry about others. You take care of Mick, Lisa—even me, despite the fact that we only met a few weeks ago. You’ll go to every extreme to protect people, and that’s all you ever used blood-bending for, but you insist that you seem intent on convincing yourself and everyone else that you’re some sort of villain.”

“So what you’re saying is, you don’t believe I’m a monster anymore than I believe you’re one,” he says, a half-smile, half-smirk on his face. Sara leans over and gives him a kiss on the cheek.

“Does that answer your question?” she says, softly. She’s about to move back to where she was sitting before, but Snart grabs her by the waist and turns her back, pressing his lips to hers. She relaxes, moving on top of him and deepening the kiss. She wraps her arms around him, getting as close as she can. Snart flips her over, onto the ground and moves his lips, planting kisses on her neck, all the way up to her ear.

“I think I need further clarification,” he whispers, sending chills down her spine. He kisses her again and runs his fingers through her hair playfully. There’s something electric about the way it feels, having him so close. Maybe they’re both monsters, or maybe they’re not, but one thing is clear: Sara Lance has met her match.

“I leave you kids alone for five seconds,” mutters a familiar voice. Snart lets go of Sara and they both sit up. Mick is standing outside the cell, along with a _very_ red Barry Allen who’s looking at a nearby wall like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.

“Any news?” Sara asks, resisting the urge to laugh at Barry’s discomfort and Mick’s annoyance.

“Uh, right,” Barry says, clearing his throat. “Good news and bad news. The good news is, I convinced Captain Singh to let you guys off on bail, since you were acting in defense, and you helped us catch Merlyn, who’s actually a wanted terrorist— we got Zaheer to confirm it. You’ll probably still have to go to court, though.”

 _Ha! Like any of us would actually show up._ “How much is the bail?”

“That’s the bad news,” Barry says, looking uncomfortable again. “It’s, uh, 200,000 yuans for all three of you together, so . . .”

“We lose the championship pot,” Snart finishes. “Fantastic.” He turns to Sara. “Well, so much for your payment, assassin.”

“It’s not always about the money, crook,” she says with a smile. “It’s about having each other’s backs.”

“To the end,” he says, smiling back at her.

“Monsters” is the wrong word to describe them, and so is “heroes”. Only one word in the entire English lexicon could ever fit.

_Rogues._

**THE END**


End file.
